


The Dream is Over

by Van



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Van/pseuds/Van
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Avon's childhood, before the war, before Cygnus Alpha, before Anna, Tynus and Keiller, before there was a man at all. This is Avon as a boy and the narcissist that failed to love him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dream is Over

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a "party" prompt. Set pre-The Way Back, during Avon's childhood.

“Where _were_ you?”

The accusing voice was overly loud in the dark room, drowning out the hearty laughter of Serria’s companion. “Kerr, darling, is that you?” she called, taking delicate steps from the front door toward the light panel. “Why ever are you sitting here in the dark, dear?” The hem of her dress caught at her legs, causing her to stumble. She giggled as wine splashed out of her glass, all over her hand. “Silly boy.”

Pressing her palm to the light panel illuminated the elegant, white main room. To her surprise it was gaily decorated with a variety of colorful ribbons. “What’s all this?” she asked, blinking at the onslaught of color and light. She took a drink from her glass and found it steadied her immediately.

“Who is _that_?” Kerr demanded from where he sat on the edge of a silver and white chaise lounge. His dark eyes were focused on her companion.

“Oh. You remember Marks, of course,” Serria said, turning back to her companion adoringly. “Val Marks, from Planning.” She looped her arm through Marks’ and he took on a pleasant, somewhat vacant smile. She took another sip from her wine and returned the smile, suppressing another giggle at how silly he looked all a-grin.

“And where is Father?” Kerr asked, getting to his feet.

It was then that Serria noticed the boy was dressed in his Academy mess uniform, which was more than a little unusual. “Out at some business meeting or another, I suppose,” she said dismissively. Her brows furrowed. “Don’t look at me like that. I am not your father’s keeper. Now, what’s all this fuss and nonsense about?” She nodded at the ribbons. “And where is your brother?”

“He’s gone.” The words hung in the air. “Off to Blue Sector for four years, to complete his training, of course. I see the drink has made you forget already.” The contempt practically rolled off the boy. 

“Watch your mouth,” Serria snapped.

“No,” Kerr said, stalking up to her. “ _You_ watch _yours_.” He viciously snatched her wine glass out of her hands, the rest of the liquid sloshing out.

“How _dare_ you.” Overcome with fury at being ridiculed in front of a guest, Serria backhanded Kerr. The force nearly sent the boy sprawling to the floor.

He sprang back to his feet immediately, smashing her wine glass to the ground in a white fury. “How dare _you_!” he retorted. “You knew for _weeks_ tonight was his send off party! All he wanted was for you to be here!” Kerr flung his arm out, gesturing to the fully stocked wet bar. “He even made sure there would be plenty of your precious drink to entice you!”

Emotion had put bright red spots high on the boy’s cheeks and he was breathing hard. The top three buttons of his high collared mess dress had come undone. He looked more than a little foolish. 

Taking a calming breath, Serria ignored him, trailing a hand over the glittering white settee as she walked to the wet bar. “Come and have a drink with us, Marks,” she said, ignoring her son to address her companion. She took down two glasses and filled them with dark liqueur. “Kerr here was just going to bed. He’s a bit distraught over his brother leaving, you understand. He was quite fond of him.” She took a sip from her glass, focusing back on Kerr. “It isn’t as if he had died, darling. Four years is hardly any time at all. Save such silly emotions for things that actually matter.”

“This does actually matter.” Kerr was practically growling.

“No more of this foolishness,” Serria said. She drained her glass, and as the liquid burned down her throat and settled warm and familiar in her stomach, she found her resolve. In a sweet voice, she said, “Now, off to bed with you. Mother has guests to entertain tonight. We’ll clean up this mess tomorrow, all right?”

Kerr was not so easily pacified. “You are a drunkard and a whore,” he spat.

Such words were shocking from her little boy, but short of narrowing her eyes, she did not give him the satisfaction of reacting to them. Very deliberately, she refilled her glass. “Be careful what you say, my darling. That makes _you_ the son of a whore,” she said. “And you most certainly are not.”

Kerr merely stood there, fuming.

“To bed with you,” Serria said, her pleasant tone returning. “If you go quietly now, I won’t tell your father about this whole ordeal. He would be most displeased with your behavior tonight.”

“I hate you,” Kerr stated.

Serria’s lips curved into a smile. She raised her glass to her lips and took a delicate sip. “I would be so very disappointed if you didn’t. Now, be a good dear and get to bed. Goodnight.”

Sneering, Kerr turned and stalked off. 

“Alone at last,” Serria said. She felt triumphant at her win without boasting. Taking up both the drinks, she stepped over the shattered wine glass to sit on the settee. Marks settled close beside her. “He’s so terribly emotional.” She sighed. “I trust he’ll soon grow out of it.” She calmed herself with another sip of the liqueur, handing Marks his glass. “It would be a pity to have to have him reconditioned.”


End file.
